


always knock before you enter, kids!

by moonjongup (nicrt)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Gags, Gen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Bondage, Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicrt/pseuds/moonjongup
Summary: Now, hear him out. It's not as lonely as one thinks it is....or maybe it is, because tying himself up will sure as hell be a lot easier if he had an extra set of hands helping him out.Point is, Dejun sometimes thinks about what will happen if any one of his housemates got involved with one of his little games. Either properly involved...or by accident.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	always knock before you enter, kids!

**Author's Note:**

> I"VE TEN MINUTES TILL DEADLINE SUBMISSION :SCREAMS:
> 
> Thank you Mods for setting up this event round! Also forgive me for writing this as an entry! :'D

Dejun watches each one of his housemates closely.

Johnny's being his usual heart-eyes-only-for-you self; currently, trying to smother Yuta in as much love as he possibly could. Yuta meanwhile is sighing every once in a while as if it's a burden, since his boyfriend continues to bury him in kisses, but it's with a lace of adoration. He still reciprocates every time though, holding onto the other tighter and peppering him with his own kisses. They're cuddling on the couch, taking up all of the room ("Get a room!" Dejun calls out), while dinner's being prepared.

Jaehyun and Sicheng are being domestic again. Jaehyun's cooking up a feast, the aroma of the budae jjigae permeating the air with different hints of spices, meats, and cheese. Sicheng hip checks the other in passing, laughing as the other whips around with his wooden spoon, Jaehyun pointing it at Sicheng threateningly. He does it with an amused smile on his face though and it only grows bigger when Sicheng presses a quick kiss on his lips in apology. ("Don't let the dinner burn!" Dejun has to remind them.)

Mark and Lucas are being disgusting. They're also being heathens, having dessert before dinner. They have a pint tub of ice cream open in front of them (which means it's in front of Dejun) and are feeding each other scoops of it, turn by turn. Mark giggles and scoffs when Lucas holds back from feeding him, punching him lightly in the shoulder. Spoon of ice cream in hand, Lucas just waggles his eyebrows at the other. Mark finally gives in after another ten seconds ("The ice cream is going to melt guys," Dejun laughs in amusement), leaning in to kiss Lucas, to which he lifts his arms up in victory.

Dejun watches as the chaos unfolds. The ice cream drips onto the floor, Lucas curses abruptly, getting up so fast it scares Sicheng enough to yell, dropping the cutlery onto the table, the loud sound startling Jaehyun enough to look back from the stew while also making Yuta shoot up into sitting position so fast in order to look over the couch, causing Johnny to apparently fall off the couch because Dejun hears a loud thud and then a louder groan.

He can't help it. Dejun laughs at the ridiculous situation. It's so normal of his housemates to somehow make a mess out of any easy moment in time. His laughter doesn't seem to break the spell that's stunned them all. It makes them all stare at him actually, as if in awe that he's laughing so brightly. Lucas snaps out of it first though and laughs too, apologising to Sicheng for the scare. Sicheng clams up and waves him off instead, trying to play it cool but Jaehyun still ends up cooing at his boyfriend for being scared so easily. Meanwhile, Yuta has turned his attention to Johnny. He keeps apologising to Johnny while also indirectly calling him a klutz; Johnny takes it all in with a smile, because Yuta's finally pampering him with direct attention.

Mark though. Mark blushes scarlet and quickly looks away from Dejun.

Dejun hides a smile behind his cup of tea.

It's not that he doesn't pay any attention to it at all. It, as in the unspoken attention his roommates seems to have on him. It's just that, if he did, he isn't sure what might come out of it. There is a huge possibility of a fallout as the result, of consequences dire enough to warrant him moving out. He'd be messing with all kinds of relationships if he did, after all.

It doesn't mean he doesn't notice it. Because, it's also just really hard not to notice. The first few times, they at least tried to be subtle about it. A shoulder hug here, a friendly touch there. Hands that lingered a little longer than platonic; eyes that trailed after him as he walks by; eyes that lit up in a kind of happiness whenever he even smiled their way. 

Then it escalates. Not by a lot, but just enough that Dejun can't deny that there's some kind of attraction among them all.

Johnny is a lot more tactile now, never hesitating to give him hugs, backhugs, even going around carrying him over the shoulder playfully. Yuta likes to corner him alone, flashing him flirtatious smiles and send winks his way, because Dejun still sputters in embarrassment right after.

Jaehyun pays special attention to Dejun's wants now, cooking more of his favourite foods whenever he could or preparing meals for him in advance. Sicheng is still his aloof self, but he smiles at Dejun so fondly now that it leaves Dejun whiplashed by how soft his expression becomes.

Mark gets super shy around him, evident by the way he smiles dumbly at him whenever they talk and gets embarrassed when Dejun catches him staring instead of responding. Lucas... is being extra Lucas. And while it seems as if that's nothing new and he's just being his regular friendly self- look, there's a _difference_ and the shift is _telling_.

All these little things? They're things they do to each other's lover. And they're doing it to _him_.

His housemates have always been horrible at keeping secrets.

But Dejun let's it slide. No one's said anything; no one's _done_ anything more. So he doesn't pay attention to it. Doesn't do anything about it himself.

Well. Not entirely.

It's also not that he hates it. _Far_ from it. He really likes it; revels in it, in fact. The way their touches raises goosebumps along his skin and sends shivers up his spine. The way their gazes makes his cheeks flush and leaves a burning sensation behind his neck.

The way he wants them; knows they want him too.

And yet, he can't do anything about it.

On nights when he's by his lonesome, Dejun ends up wondering about what it would be like if they did break down all their boundaries. When the others are out of the house and he's stuck at home because of work or other. But he especially wonders about it, when he sets up for an evening alone.

Like tonight when he's _finally_ finished with his latest screenplay draft and sent it in to be reviewed. As a pat on his back and after checking to see if the house was _truly_ empty, Dejun thinks it'd be a nice reward for himself. For the next few hours, he'll have the house to himself to play his fun game.

Now, hear him out. It's not as lonely as one thinks it is.

...or maybe it is, because tying himself up will sure as hell be a lot easier if he had an extra set of hands helping him out.

_Point is_ , Dejun sometimes thinks about what will happen if any one of his housemates got involved with one of his little games. Either properly involved...or by accident.

It starts with Dejun deciding on what to use. He likes to think that he's done a good job at amassing quite a nice collection. Ropes, belts, cuffs, one or two chains. Gags of various kinds. Toys of _nefarious_ kinds.

You get the picture.

Usually, he'll set up in his room. His collection laid out on his bed before him, picking and choosing what he wants to use for the night. And when he's done, he preps himself well and good, readying for a _long_ night well spent and that will _leave_ him spent. He never ends his sessions early; he always wakes up in the morning, still in a pool of his own mess.

While his ties can be complex, he also has precautions in place. He's about to tie himself up, alone, after all. He's read too many horror stories of others being trapped in a tie of their own making.

This is what he means by "well, not entirely". Because this part? It's the only part of his game that he's ballsy about.

He never locks his door on these nights.

None of the others knew about his kinky endeavours. A given since at first, he's a stranger who just moved in. He's locked his door every night since the first day and they respected that. But when Dejun realised there was an open secret about their attraction towards him...

There's something of a thrill about getting caught in a moment full of vulnerable pleasure. Add that to a list of kinks Dejun has. But knowing what he knows about them, about them _wanting_ him, in whatever way they'll have him - he wonders, if he leaves the door unlocked, what will happen? What will they do?

What _more_ can happen?

There have been close calls. How could there not be? Nights when he has to keep from even screaming into his gag because someone was right outside his door. Nights when he has to hold himself still because the walls were thin enough to hear the creaks of his bed. Nights when he has to pretend that nothing's wrong, nothing's different, that his door's locked like every other night.

The worst nights though, were when he had to keep his pain and pleasure to himself, even when his housemates weren't as considerate during their own fucks.

He wonders. At night, in the morning, during his sessions, locked in a near-unescapable hold, with nothing but his own thoughts, emotions, and sensations. What if someone walks in on him? Trussed up, tied down, silenced at best, and moaning in the throes of pleasure at worst?

It sends chills of delight down his spine.

Johnny will still be in his studio tonight, working on editing while waiting for Yuta to finish up at his salon. Jaehyun's working overtime at the office, so Sicheng said he'll be going out for dinner with some friends. Lucas had dragged Mark out for another date night.

He's excited before he even starts.

He doesn't particularly have a favourite type of rope, since he likes to mix them up. Dejun runs his fingers along the ones he's selected; some soft to touch while others felt scratchy. He can already imagine the feeling of them on his skin. The caress of the ropes holding fast, unyielding against his struggles to escape.

And while Dejun knows he _can_ escape... it doesn't mean he'll do so willingly.

His gags though, Dejun's more particular with them. Is it considered a kind of oral fixation? Because he's very picky over what kind of gags he wants. Sometimes he wants to bite on the hardness of rubber with his teeth. Other times, he wants to swallow around a length of ridged silicone. Tonight, he feels like he wants to be kissed with glue against his lips, wrapped tight around his face, his mouth stuffed with thick cotton.

Now for the fun part: toys.

He lets out giggles at the imagery of him being wrecked by one of the bullet vibrators, strapped at the tip of his cock. Maybe he could torture himself with cock rings wrap around his and above balls, deny him release. A hand flashes in his mind. Large like Lucas' or Johnny's, cheeky like Yuta's or Sicheng's, gentle like Jaehyun's or Mark's; teasing the tip of the clear silicone dildo against his stretched hole, wet with lube and big enough to make Dejun cry. The hand pushes it in, and Dejun will whine against the layers of his gag, struggle against his bindings. Slowly, achingly slow, it's pushed in until it finally bottoms out. And then - oh how _delightfully evil_ this is - the hand pulls it all the way back, leaving just the tip inside him. And just as the vibrators notches up, it's pushed back in. And then it repeats; over and over and over-

_Fucking seven and a half hells._

Dejun's about to cum from his overactive imagination alone.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts.

He'll have all night to fantasize it in full later.

Dejun grunts into his gag, mouth stuffed full with his socks and lips sealed tight with several wraps of duct tape. His hands flexed into tight fists, unable to do anything but jerk about as they're tied behind his back. On one particularly hard tug, courtesy of the sudden increasing speed of the bullet vibrator tied to his tip; it causes the trail of rope over his perineum to drive the dildo deeper into him and the rest of it tightens around his cock. He whines at feeling so full, so fast, at being bound down and wound up so good. His toes curl into the sheets, the only grip available to him that's helping him stay sane.

He's covered in a sheen of sweat, the result of his struggling in the harness he's tied on himself. Black ropes that cross over one another, diamonds made of thread digging into his skin, a pattern of control over his form. Dejun rubs his face against his pillow, using his head as a leverage to try change his position. Difficult, seeing as he's lying on his side and his legs were bent in a way, his thighs lashed to his calves and anchored to the harness. With a groan, he ends up turtling onto his back, his hands now trapped beneath him, the ropes pulling taut around his groin, his moaning louder as the vibrations intensifies and his cock twitches with another dry orgasm.

How long has it been? He blinks blearily at the ceiling, breathing fast and shallow. The bullet's been wrecking havoc for so long and he hasn't heard anyone mill about since he started. Were they still out? Dejun can't tell whether it was late into the night or if it's already morning.

The vibrations on his cock eases off and he can't help but sigh in relief. It's been a slow, delicious torture - being at the mercy of something so small, uncompromising and mean. On the upside of having the house to himself, he's free to be as loud as his gag allowed him to be. The dildo shifts as he tries to find a more comfortable position and he whines again as it prods right where he's sensitive at.

His senses feel overloaded, stretched taut and frayed at the edges. He's cursing at his past self for including the cock rings, since he won't find relief until-

"Dejun?" A voice calls out and Dejun feels like he's been tossed into cold, deep waters.

Mark.

He hears it now. Faint laughter, Lucas cheering at Yuta to chug something down, Sicheng's excited yelling over everyone else's. His housemates are back and whatever they're doing downstairs, it probably involves alcohol.

"Dejun?" Mark knocks on the door, "Hey man, we're having drinks downstairs."

Dejun's stunned. Like a deer caught in headlights. This is the closest he's ever gotten to being caught by anyone of his housemates. This is one of the many ways his fantasies begin. This is everything he's ever wanted.

"Uhm, so I was wondering if you're awake and wanted to come join? I mean, it's cool if you're asleep. Which... would explain why you're not replying. Uhh... so... are you asleep? Of course he is, Mark, why are you even..."

He's not sure what to do.

The bullet does apparently, because it chose that exact moment to vibrate harder, faster, and louder that it catches Dejun off guard for the second time tonight.

It also makes him let out a muffled but audible shout.

"Dejun?!" Mark exclaims, his pitch hitting a higher octave at the noise he just heard. "Dejun, are you okay?"

_Seven heavens_ , Dejun thought as he's being ruined by the bullet, the dildo, the cock ring, the gag, the ropes, Mark right outside his door. _I hope this isn't how I die._

"Dejun? Dejun! Dejun, man, hey! I'm coming-"

Dejun thinks he might be too.

"-in!"

Wait what?

Dejun's eyes snaps to where his door was, right before his bed. All Dejun can do right then, is wait. The door opens and it feels like time stills, the moment hangs. He watches as it reveals Mark, pretty gorgeous handsome Mark, an expression of worry on his face. Dejun can see the moment where his eyebrows furrow as confusion takes him. And then shock hits him, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping as he takes in the scene before him.

Trussed up, tied down, silenced at best...

"Dejun..." Mark whispers. He whispers _his_ name.

...and moaning in the throes of pleasure at worst.

That does it; that's what unmakes Dejun. Like repeated waves of hot white solar flares - the bullet, the dildo, the cock ring, the gag, the ropes, Mark right outside his door, Mark standing there and watching him unravel, Mark saying his name in reverence - all of these sensations wash over Dejun and drowns him in ecstasy.

He howls into the cotton, into the tape, hands and legs jerk in their bonds; he can feel his hard cock twitch in it's own ties, feels the little sputtering release of cum dribbling onto him. The heat encompasses around him like humid summer nights, before his body hums in painful quiet. It makes him whine pathetically.

Dejun feels tired. Drained. Sleepy, even if unsatisfying.

The last thing he hears before he blacks out, is a quiet curse and the door creaking close.

Morning afters usually go like this: Dejun wakes, sore and tired, still in the remnants of his night's escapade. Still tied, still gagged, still plugged and being played with. It drives him wild and leaves sensitive, but that's why he spends the rest of the day in bed to recover.

So imagine his surprise, when he the next morning. Burrowed under his blankets and sheets, snuggling into his pillows, feeling so clean and refreshed, he doesn't think last night happened.

It did though.

The rope marks were proof of that.


End file.
